


to be home is to be with the people who love you

by tvheit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (but it's pretty ambiguous by the end), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Stormbreaker, Asgard, Canonical Character Death, Captain America Sam Wilson, Character Study, Dealing with MIs, Exercise is talked about a lot, For the love of god please don't even READ the tags if you haven't watched the movie, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Learning how to rule your people after five years, M/M, Nomad Steve Rogers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Personal Trainer Valkyrie, Some Humor, Steve Rogers Can Wield Mjolnir, Thor (Marvel)-centric, Thor and Valkyrie's fitspo journey into loving who you are through exercise, Weight Issues, a burn so slow they don't even get together by the end of 10k, absolutely ridiculous fitness baselines, but more of a study on growth, endgame spoilers, good things come to those who realise that they deserved to reach out and grab them all along, like the average asgardian can lift 30 tons, not as heavy as those tags make it sound, not quite an Endgame 'fix it', so thors gonna be like. bench pressing cars, spans over six years, the Asgardian Way, the Asgardian Weapon Summoning Olympics, this fic is all about growth okay, you know that burn is slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 04:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvheit/pseuds/tvheit
Summary: They save the universe again, and Thor starts a long road to recovery that is about five years overdue.The weirdly placed Endgame 'fix-it' where Thor doesn't join the Guardians and instead stays back to look after New Asgard, Steve goes time-hopping to return the stones but comes back with Mjolnir, they both start being active participants in The Hammer Loves Me More and I'm Willing to Stand Here With My Arm Outstretched for Twenty Minutes to Prove It Game, and maybe, they get to save the universe. This time, the right way.





	to be home is to be with the people who love you

**Author's Note:**

> okay one. endgame was good i just hated about 40% of it and two. i love thor so much. his characterization in endgame may have been shittily played for laughs but if anyone even tries to make a single fatphobic joke i will do something unspeakable. this fic is born out of two ideas: my need for more steve/thor bonding over trying to be the better parents of their two metal, non sentient weapon children, and my need to literally grab thor as he is at the end of endgame and not retcon him, but put him through his own journey of learning to love himself again. so disclaimer:
> 
> nothing in this fic is particularly angsty or heavy, topic wise. it's there, but personally, i don't think it's heavy. the biggest one is probably going to be surrounding weight, but potential triggers are in the end notes.
> 
> this can be read as a gen thor character study because i'm woefully inadequate at writing relationships. not edited because i have the brain the size of a walnut and i spat this out in about for hours, on and off. i'll explain some things at the end, but the fic basically is a set up for something bigger disguised as a thor-centric character study and stevethor banter. also val is named val because i have an easier time typing val than brunnhilde. enjoy

Thor gets it.

He does.

He’s always had an inkling, that one day Steve was going to hold up his hand and Mjolnir was going to zoom on its merry way straight to the captain’s grasp, and he was okay with that. If Mjolnir thought Steve to be worthy, then who was Thor to go against it. He has Stormbreaker now, and even without it he has, well, himself. Can’t steal a weapon from someone if their body _is_ the weapon.

This, though. This is just annoying.

“Don’t go straight back to your old routine,” Val groans after he collapses to the floor, “You just spent five years on a depressive bender. Trust me, I know how that works. When I was in Sakaar, I couldn’t even lift a battleship one-handed.”

Thor, who has never been able to lift a ship one-handed ever, BMI whack or not, doesn’t say anything. Val gestures to the pull-up bar again. “If you can hit five thousand, we’ll accept that as good progress for today.”

He stares at it, then holds out his hand for Mjolnir. There’s a familiar pull in the air, and Val says, “No, Thor, if you destroy this one you _know_ Amazon doesn’t deliver here yet so I’ll have to drag you out -,” and then Mjolnir rounds a corner and flies straight into his grasp, along with about 200 pounds of super soldier. The resulting mass times acceleration results in Thor being thrown back about ten metres and all the breath spectacularly knocked out of him. A thunderclap sounds in the distance, and as he blinks he realizes that Steve is also winded. Which reminds him. Steve. Mjolnir.

“Hey Captain,” Val grins, giving the man a cheery wave Thor can’t see. Steve groans. Now that Thor’s paying attention, he can see that Steve’s hand is through the wrist strap of Mjolnir, and probably was there before Thor decided to call it. Which is weird, because the last time Thor has seen Mjolnir was this morning, when he used it as a paperweight when checking over long due tax reports.

“Steve,” he says slowly, “What were you doing with Mjolnir?” Steve rolls off Thor with another groan, and then yelps when his wrist lets out an ominous crack.

“Heya, Val,” he says, nodding towards her as he quickly disentangles his hand from Mjolnir, “Thor. I, uh, ran into some trouble that I thought I could fix real quick, except I couldn’t find a single hammer anywhere, so I thought I could just make things easier by - by summoning Mjolnir to fix Morgan’s broken tent.” He says in a rush. And Thor blinks.

“You summoned the hammer forged in the heart of a dying star to _fix a child’s tent._ ” Thor repeats, and Steve squares his shoulders, looking a tad defensive.

“I’ve seen you use it as a doorstopper!” he says, and Thor covers his face.

“Because that was when only I could lift it, and I wanted the door open but no one else did. It was a _statement_ , Steve.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Steve says, “But now I’m on a completely different continent from where I’m supposed to be and _ohmygod I just left Morgan in the middle of a forest by herself._ ”

Thor stares as Steve seems to go through all the stages of grief in a matter of seconds. Him hanging out with Stark’s daughter would explain why he’s dressed _as_ Captain America. Especially since, for all intents and purposes, Thor was pretty sure the new bird man, Sam, was actually Captain America now. He doesn’t understand all these superhero names and mantles. His name is Thor, and there’s never going to be another Thor. He can’t just pass down his first name like that, that would be identity theft. Steve whirls around.

“Let me borrow Stormbreaker,” he pleads. 

“No,” Thor says immediately. Steve blinks, and Thor sees his hand twitch. A split-second later, they both have their hands up, and Stormbreaker whizzes out of Thor’s house before stopping, evidently torn between two pulls.

“Come on,” Steve suddenly says, like Stormbreaker can hear him and it’s a goddamn puppy, “You know how I’m only going to use you to get back to Morgan, You want to help me make sure Stark’s child is safe, don’t you? Don’t you?” 

Not to be outdone, Thor says, “Well, Stormbreaker, you know who made you, right? Who took the force of a star for you? Who dealt the last blows to Thanos? Who has been nothing but kind to you, and won’t use you for child’s play? Who gave _birth_ to you?”

“Enough,” Val’s voice is suddenly behind them, and she whacks them both hard on the head, causing Stormbreaker to clatter to the floor. “That was going into some weird territory. Jesus, if I wanted to watch _Who Takes Custody of the Child In a Court of Divorce_ I would have put on Judge Judy. Thor, just let him have it. He can text you when he arrives and you can summon it back. No biggie.”

 Thor wants to protest, because it’s the _principle_ of the whole thing, not whether he’s making Steve abandon a small child in the forest, but Val fixes him with a stare that reminds him so eerily of his mother that he crosses his arm and stares broodily away from Steve. The familiar woosh tells him that Steve is now holding Stormbreaker. He turns around resolutely to face the captain, who smiles at him.

“I’ll return it, promise,” he says, all earnest, and Thor can help but smile.

“You better,” he replies as Steve holds it up, and then Val says, “Nuh-uh.” She jerks her thumb to the far side. “Use the designated landing and take-off field. We’re not barbarians, Steve. Think of the poor lawn maintenance guys.”

“Right,” Steve says, and then winks at Thor, who is reminded so painfully about a simpler time, where they joked around the compound after battling Ultron, before he truly could see the destruction that was to come upon them, that he can do nothing but smile, tight-lipped. 

“See,” Val says as they watch Steve head confidently in the wrong direction, “He’s pretty worthy.”

“He is,” Thor says. “Just wish he’d take using that worthiness a little more seriously.” Val blinks.

“You just tried to summon the hammer to destroy a pull-up bar because you only made it up to four thousand nine hundred reps,” She says with a cocked eyebrow, and okay, fine, Thor is going to give her that one.

“Let’s keep going,” he grumbles, but her smile is infectious and he feels the corner of his lips tug up again as he follows her back to their little makeshift gym.

 

* * *

 

The thing is, Steve never texts a _Got home safe, dad, thanks for letting me borrow the car_ message, and Thor forgets. He pushes himself into what can only be described as a fitspo regiment created by two people with absolutely no idea what ‘fitspo’ means, and takes back over certain parts of the duties that Val had been holding all these years. He was never really the secretarial type – his whole life was gearing him up to be the Man in the Throne with the big red flowy cape and the manspreading pose – but Val made it pretty clear that until Thor gets to a point in his life where he’s comfortable to be the person people depended on again, he’s on desk duty.  Which is fine. He’s always been good with numbers and logistics.

“You were like me,” he tells her one day, when the Throne room (which is really just a conference room on the top floor of a decently sized office block on the cliff edge) is empty except for the both of them. “How did you become the person who led them?”

Val shrugs, not even looking up from where she’s compiling resources. “We didn’t really have a choice, hey. You had to go save the world, and when you came back it really didn’t look like you took failure that well, so someone had to step up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Thor says, and he really, really is. Tears are threatening to well up in his eyes. Val does look up then. Her face softens, and she sighs.

“You have nothing to be sorry for except how badly you’ve been treating yourself about this, Thor. As a friend and your co-ruler, I decree it,” She says, and Thor laughs, despite himself.

“I just – I abandoned my people,” He says. And Val nods.

“Yeah, you did,” She says, shrugging, “But you came back.”

So Thor forgets about it. There’s no more battles to be won but legal ones, which he’s so busy with that he doesn’t even think to go and find either weapon. He’s getting so much better at commanding lightning too, never mind that time that he nearly set a small house on fire trying to fix their fuse box. He’s not really losing much weight, but he has gotten much stronger. Not as strong as he was five years ago, but stronger. In the scheme of things, it’s just not important.

Until he tries to summon Stormbreaker to make a quick run to Australia, where they have a potential trade route set up to discuss, and nothing comes for ten minutes. 

“Thor,” Val says, after watching him stand with one arm up ridiculously in the middle of the airport field for exactly that long, “Thor, just call Steve,” she says, and then sighs as he tries to fumble for his phone with one hand.

“Steve,” he says, after Val helps him take the phone out of his pocket and dials the number, “Cease summoning Stormbreaker, I have to go to Australia.”

“Oh, is that why it’s not coming?” Steve’s tinny voice says, “I was gonna chop some wood.”

“Get another axe,” Thor tells him. The line is quiet for a moment, so Thor adds, “If I’m late for this meeting I will make it rain whenever you take Morgan camping, and she will blame you for it.”

“That’s harsh, bud,” Steve says, and hangs up. Moments later, Stormbreaker hurtles across the ocean towards them.

“You guys need some sort of dibs system,” Val tells him as the Bifrost opens up.

“We have a system,” Thor says, “I get first choice, always. That’s the system.”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” she says. Thor shrugs. They’ll burn that bridge when they get to it.

 

* * *

 

The next time Steve drops by, it’s by a mode of transport actually recognised by international travel.

“Hey Thor,” he says. He’s brought along the new Captain America, Sam Wilson, and the cyborg man, Bucky. They’re all in casual clothes.

“Hello,” Thor says. Val’s not here, she’s surveying the new plot of land where they’re building more affordable housing that isn’t just reminiscent of a Viking fishing village. Thor realises that he’s, quite literally, twenty feet above ground in the crow’s nest of a fishing boat at that moment, and that Steve and co. are hovering midair next to him.  Further examination shows that they’re not actually flying, just in some sort of sleek Wakandian jet that doesn’t have a roof.

“We thought we’d drop by,” Steve continues, gesturing around, “And see how things are going.”

“Is what we would say if we had the time to play at being a blushing virgin,” Sam interjects, “But in reality, we have a proposition for Asgard. It’s about sovereignty, and the Stark Relief Foundation.”

There’s silence. Thor hasn’t really heard anyone say Stark’s name since the Third Snap, so it’s kind of a surprise to hear Sam say it so matter-of-factly. Steve is looking at him, jaw set, but doesn’t add anything. Bucky doesn’t contribute either. Thor takes them all in. 

“Okay,” he says turning to jump out of the nest and back onto land, “Let me get Val.”

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s not a lot,” Sam says, as Thor and Val scroll over the miles and miles of plans and calculations and blueprints and terms, “Mrs. Potts said that she has both a professional and personal interest in the proper assimilation of Asgardians into global society. She wants to help.”

Val pauses on one blueprint, a mini, sprawling version of Asgard itself, situated on the very hills they were now. It’s overlaid on top of a model of their town now. The town itself barely takes up the main square. She looks up over it at Thor.

“What do you think?” she says, and Thor looks at the blueprint. “Not gonna lie, that looks much more like a liveable space.”

It is. The place looks like home, and Thor thinks, _we might actually make things right for the people again._

“What do you gain?” He asks the trio. They’re quiet for a moment, and then Bucky says, “We gain your knowledge.”

“Ah,” Thor says. “We have had millions of years to learn what we do. It’s not going to be easy to show Midgardians what they crave.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, tossing Mjolnir from hand to hand like a stress ball. Thor doesn’t even know when he got hold of it. He meets Thor’s eyes, and must have seen something there, because he stops playing hot potato with the hammer and puts it down, “We’re a pretty tenacious lot.”

He blinks, and then says, even softer, “And we want to help our friends out.”

Thor doesn’t say anything. Val keeps skimming the proposal.

“You’re going to need to relocate around two hundred thousand people while this is underway,” she says, “But if you give us the resources, a lot of the population can help speed up construction. With the technology you have, your proposed completion date is in ten years,” She looks up, “We can do it in seven.”

“Seven years?” Sam asks, and Val smiles.

“No,” she says, “Seven months.”

Thor takes a moment to smile at the stunned looks that overcome all three of them. 

“Wow,” Bucky finally breathes out, “I fucking love the future.”

 

* * *

 

A week later, they’re in the middle of a workout session when there’s a splintering sound and Mjolnir flies past them.

“Oh, hell no,” Thor says, and holds up his hand. The hammer jerks to a stop right over the cliff edge. He blinks, before realising he’s mid bench press. No matter. He gently nudges the fifty kilo weights off the sides to lighten the load, and keeps going until his phone rings. 

“Thor here,” he manages to say as he makes the phone project Steve’s face on the roof, “What’s up?”

“Thor, kind of in a predicament here and would _really_ appreciate it if you’d let me get the hammer,” Steve pants, and he looks like he’s running, “I’m currently in the middle of fuck all, Illinois, and it would be super useful to be able to fly right now.”

Thor mulls on it. It does look like Steve’s in some trouble.

“Promise you’re not doing to use it to build a bird house or something,” he tells Steve, who scrunches up his nose on faux exasperation.

“Deal,” he says, “Now let the fuck go.”

Thor lets it the fuck go.

 

* * *

 

“How’s construction going?” Steve asks, one day when they run into each other at Wakanda. He looks Thor up and down, and grins. “Nice suit.”

“Thanks,” Thor says, because it’s Versace, according to Val, and she picked it out with the help of Carol. It’s pretty gaudy, but Thor likes the patterns. They flatter him, and not a lot of clothing tends to do that nowadays.

“You know you look good in everything, right?” Steve says, managing to pick up on the barest shifts in the conversation. “Even being fatter than you used to be.”

“You are not helping,” Thor tells him kindly, and Steve winces, nods.

“That was a bad call. I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s sincere.  Thor nods.

“It’s not a problem, Steve.”

“I know, it’s just – ” Steve gestures vainly at nothing, “You looked so broken, you know? When you came to us you were such a mess of a person, and now you’re doing so well, and I’m not talkin’ about weight anymore, I’m talkin’ about you. Your eyes. They sparkle now. You’ve got a purpose again.”

Thor blinks. He hadn’t even noticed, but there was a noticeable change in his stance. He used to slouch, try to make himself smaller. But now he stood straight, calm and easy, and he thinks, _wow. I haven’t even changed how I look at all, and I feel like this._

“You think so?” He asks, and Steve smiles.

“I know so, buddy. Now come on, I gotta show you the good food around here.”

 

* * *

 

They both run into problems trying to summon the same item at the same time more than Thor would like to admit, and since they’re both entire continents away from each other, sometimes the fact that Mjolnir or Stormbreaker is metaphorically stuck between an unstoppable force and an immovable object isn’t noticeable straight away. It results in a _lot_ of looking silly with outstretched arms, until they give up and call the other person and then argue over who needs it more in the moment.

Thor’s never been lifted off the ground like Steve has, though. He’s using Mjolnir to help speed up the finishes on the city, since Uru works like a charm against literally any other element, and it starts to tug out of his grip insistently, like a puppy pulling on a leash. He sighs and makes sure Mjolnir is snug around his wrist, before pulling out his phone and dialling Steve.

“Steve, I’m in the middle of using Mjolnir to help out with the construction of New Asgard. You want it, you can come and fucking get it in person,” he says bluntly, not even bothering to hear Steve’s hello. There’s silence on the other end, for a long time, until suddenly a high pitched voice that is definitely not Steve says, “Uncle Steeeeeve, it’s Thor.”

Thor winces. “Hello, Morgan,” he says into the phone, and prays that she’s never going to repeat that word ever because Mrs. Potts will most definitely skin him alive if she finds out Thor’s been swearing around her child. “Could you please pass Steve the phone?”

 

* * *

 

The people really do love New Asgard. Understandably, they’d love pretty much anything nostalgic at this point because they’ve been through literal hell the last year and a bit, but New Asgard is a hit, not only for the locals but for international opportunities as well. Allspeak is a big one; no matter what language you speak you could be understood there, making it incredibly popular for tourist visits despite being relatively new. Thor and Val appoint a city council, and he makes Sif the head of security once it becomes apparent that she’s no longer content with going on fishing expeditions.

With the Stark Relief Foundation’s generous assistance, Asgard becomes a cultural hub, and the city slowly moves from fish as its main export to knowledge. There’s a throne room, a proper one now, but it’s mostly for visitors to take photos with. Thor and Val took one look at it and decided to keep their post in the office blocks.

They also, in the interest of not causing any more damage to public property, build a system  for Stormbreaker and Mjolnir. One of the mages helped create a pocket dimension, so that every time either Steve or Thor needed to summon either weapon, they’d have to do it through a different spacetime continuum. They complain at first, but Thor quickly gets the hang of it after smashing his windows. Steve follows not long after breaking his door down. 

A text comes through as Thor’s wandering around the city one day, and he turns around the check it.

 _Borrowing Mjolnir,_ it reads, _Have a mission, if you want to come._

Not too long ago, Thor would’ve jumped at the chance to go on a mission again, feel the rush of adrenaline at being out in the field again. He would have dropped everything for a fight.

Now, he just texts back _need to run a city have fun xoxo_ and lets it be.

 

* * *

 

Some days, it’s hard.

It’s not that Thor never cared about how he looked, it’s more that fact that he was always on the move. For all one thousand five hundred years of his life, he never stopped moving, training for battle, going into battle, winning battles, that sort of thing. He just wanted to win, and that arrogance was fuel for his physical maintenance.

And then he lost. Not everything, but Thanos came pretty damn close.

“I’m not losing weight,” he finally says, one day while he’s doing pull ups. Val blinks up from where she’s writing on a clipboard, dressed in Midgardian activewear. Thor is also in activewear, but he feels much less confident in it that she seems to be.

“I’m not losing weight,” He repeats, brow furrowed, “I’ve been doing this with you for a year now, and I haven’t even lost a pound. Or kilogram. Whatever measurement system we’re using. What _are_ we using?”

“Metric, we’re not American,” Val says, “And tell me, Thor, why did you start training again?”

Thor removes one hand from the bar to list off the reasons dutifully, like his therapist Kristie taught him to.

“Exercise eases stress,” A finger goes up, “It releases those happy chemicals in your brain and energizes me,” Another two fingers, “And it converts the unhealthy fat in my body to something for useful.” A last finger up. Thor pauses, and then adds a new one quickly. “So I feel better about myself.” 

“Okay,” Val says, “Where in that list does it say ‘to lose weight’?”

Thor thinks back. It doesn’t.

“I thought that was implied,” He says quietly, and Val gets that look again, that pitying look that coming from anyone else Thor would have called mocking, but she’s actually _lived_ , so much more than anyone and certainly so much more than Thor has, that sometimes she’s the closest thing to a mentor he has left.

“Oh, Thor,” she says, before moving to stand in front of him, “Look. You went through a really rough time, and gained weight. So what? The problem we’re trying to work on was never how much you weigh or how chiselled you look. The goal was always to make you feel like yourself again, not someone who is weighed down by the strain of his own mind. To make you stronger again, so that if, God forbid, there comes a need for battle again, you’re confident to stand in front and know that you will win. If you want to get your old physique back to help you achieve that goal, then fine. We’ll change the plan to work for that. But being fat and being healthy are not two ends of a spectrum, okay? It’s important to me that you know that.”

Thor doesn’t respond, because he knows that if he opens his mouth all that’s going to come out is a sob. He grabs the water she hold out, takes a sip, and makes it goes down the wrong way so that he can cough out his tears instead. Val doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what we did to deserve you again,” He tells her, eyes red-rimmed from more than just choking. Val shakes her head.

“I could say the same to you, when you gave me a second chance on Sakaar,” she says, and Thor lets out a wet laugh.

“Guess we’re even,” He says. She smiles.

“I guess we are,” she replies, and then says, “You have noticed that throughout this conversation, you’ve just been continuing your pull-ups one handed, right?”

Thor hadn’t. “I haven’t,” he says truthfully, and something warm blooms through him. Val checks her clipboard, and her grin gets even wider.

“And you know what? You just hit twelve thousand pull ups, champ.” She says, shining with pride, and Thor can’t help but grin, stupid and large.

 

* * *

 

He does decide, eventually, after consulting all his close friends and his therapist, that he does want his old physique back.

“Maybe not that much muscle,” he adds as Val scribbles down a new training program, “There’s an advantage to having the heavyset kind of body. Sif and I found that out when she tried to throw me like she used to and couldn’t, because my centre of gravity had changed.”

“Hmm, we’ll keep that in mind,” Val says, not even looking up, “It’s still better to keep the fat level in your body manageable, and build muscle. Just not in the same places as before.” She blinks, and then looks at Thor like she’s seeing him for the first time.

“Thor, take off your jumper and shirt.”

“What? No,” he says immediately, because he hasn’t gone shirtless in over a year and a half, and doesn’t really want to start now.

“No, I’m serious,” She says, “Have you been looking at yourself lately? Monitoring any progress? Because I’m pretty sure we were supposed to do that, but we both just. Forgot." 

Thor blinks. He hasn’t, actually. It’s always cold in New Asgard, since they’re literally living in Norway, so he’s always wearing layers. He doesn’t even bother to look into full length mirrors either, since there’s no point in looking presentable from the neck down, and he realises that he hadn’t actually seen himself naked for a. Well. A _very_ long time.

“Okay,” he says, and makes to start stripping.

“Wait,” Val stops him, “Let’s do this properly. Height, Weight, Cholesterol level, everything.”

“Okay,” Thor says again, a little faintly because Val’s got some sort of fire in her eyes that only happens when she’s on the war path. They set up the equipment quickly, and start the process.

“Height, 190 centimetres,” Val records, “Weight, 300 kilograms. Blood-Alcohol level, zero. Cholesterol level, adequate. I wasn’t sure what else we needed, so I took blood sugar and pressure too. You’re all good for those, and if we compare it to that one time you collapsed three years ago from getting blackout drunk and needing your stomach pumped, you’ve gone from ‘ _on the verge of death if not for alien biology_ ’ to ‘ _pretty much an average guy_ ’.”

“Great,” Thor says, “So everything except weight is back to normal.”

“That’s the thing,” Val says, and then pushes Thor in front of the mirror. He stumbles, and then twists himself around so his back is to it defiantly. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.

“Strip,” She commands.

“Buy me dinner first,” Thor replies snarkily, but starts to take off his shirt. His heart hammers and it doesn’t stop, even as he manages to pull the thing over his head and he feels the hot air of the heater on his back. Val breathes in as he tosses the shirt to the side, and then stands there, arms crossed awkwardly.

“Thor, look at yourself,” She says, and he blinks. Turns around. And oh.

He doesn’t look anything like how he remembers looking.

The last time he looked at himself like this, he had a pretty substantial beer belly and a lot of soft, cushiony fat around his chest and arms, having lost a lot of muscle definition whilst on his personal quest to disregard all health and sanitary concerns. He remembers not feeling disgust, but more disappointment. He remembers doing nothing about it, because it didn’t affect him. You can’t beat a dog if it’s dead. 

Now though, he looks. Good. It’s not like he’s magically gained back his abs or anything, but the fat build up around his arms is pretty much gone, replaced with thicker muscle than even before. His stomach is still soft and he doesn’t have any sort of pecs, but the gut has spread out a little into a flatter shape and when he flexes there he can _feel_ tension. It’s like he hadn’t really lost anything, just converted it into something more powerful. He used to look kind of lithe, almost pretty despite his musculature, but now it’s _all_ strength. He hasn’t even tried flexing his arms yet.

“Holy fuck,” he manages to say, and Val nods.

“I guess why you haven’t been losing weight isn’t because you aren’t doing enough,” She says quietly, “It’s just because you kept it all and turned it into your strength.”

Thor looks at himself again, He can’t quite peel his eyes away from the mirror, because he knew he was getting stronger again, knew he was improving both mentally and physically, but he didn’t know it was going _this well_.

“How didn’t you know,” Val asks, “You must have taken showers. Right? Please say you took showers.”

Thor laughs. 

“I did,” he says, “I took them with the lights off.”

“Oh,” Val says, all soft, and then she hugs him.

“You know that despite it all, I’m still your friend,” She says into his chest, and Thor wraps his arms around her carefully.

“I know.” 

“And that everyone can get body issues, even the mighty Thor, and that they don’t define you. Even if you stay fat, as long as you’re healthy mentally and comfortable physically, it literally does not matter. You’re still stupidly you, no matter your weight.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” She says, and she sounds like she’s crying, “Okay.”

Thor pats her head. “Thank you,” he says, and means it.

 

* * *

 

“Not following the weight-loss routine anymore?” Rocket says when they swing by Midgard, “Not that you don’t look good, compared to the last time." 

Thor chuckles and swings again, chopping the log neatly and then throwing the pieces to another pile.

“No,” he says, “I did change my diet, though. Notice any changes?”

“Not really,” Rocket tells him with only the brutal honesty a talking animal can have, “You look happier, though.”

“I feel happier,” Thor says, and is surprised to find out he means it. He’s got to give Kristie a cupcake sometime.

“That’s good,” Rocket says. Then, “Look, I’m sorry I slapped you. That time in Asgard, I mean. Every other time I’ve slapped you is fair game, because you were a cunt.”

Thor can’t help it, he laughs at that. “It’s been four years, rabbit. But apology accepted. Don’t do that again to anyone.”

Rocket looks fleetingly like he’s regretting the apology, but nods anyway. “Nebula has panic attacks,” he says suddenly, “I did the same thing to her, and she nearly killed me and then herself as a result. So. We’ve been learning. And as a result I’m having to realize that I’ve been pretty fuckin’ mean to you.”

“Ah,” Thor says, putting down Stormbreaker. A small voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Steve mocks him for using it to chop wood but Thor ignores it. He nearly died to even make the damn thing. He can use it to live out his lumberjack fantasies if he wants.

“Do you?” Rocket looks like he is actually physically struggling to carry on the small talk now. Thor hides his amusement. “Do -Do you still get them?”

“I do,” he says, because apparently it’s honesty hour now, “And I don’t think I’m going to stop having them anytime soon, but they are few and far between.”

“Right. That’s – That’s good,” Rocket says, squirming, and then finally blurts out, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too!” Thor says in his best booming voice, and Rocket looks ill. “And I don’t care if feelings give you hives, I’m going to hug you now.”

“Whatever,” Rocket manages to say, but it’s lost as he shrieks when Thor picks him up and swings him around.

The Guardians hang out for only a few days, because they’re busy making sure the rest of the universe gets settled after the snap reversal happens and don’t really get vacations anymore, but it makes Thor feel fuzzy inside as he shows them around New Asgard while they argue with each other and cause a commotion. The days end with most of them drinking around a campfire near the lake they landed at, about fifty kilometres from the city, Thor leaning on Nebula as they watch the rest of them challenge each other to drinking games.

“I don’t drink anymore,” He tells them the first night, “Val does, recreationally, but well moderated. We’re each other’s supervisors at the AA check-ups.”

“You’ve really polished up, huh,” Quill says, “Good on you.”

“Thank you,” Thor tells him, full of sincerity, and grins when the other man starts blushing.

 

* * *

 

He gets invited to Morgan Stark’s ninth birthday.

Technically, he’s been invited to every single one of her birthdays before, but this time, Steve comes along with the invitation and refuses to budge until Thor says he’ll go.

“I’m busy,” he says, “I have to run a city.”

“I know,” Steve says, “That why we already asked Val, who is legally your boss, to give you sick leave.”

“Dick move,” Thor tells him. Steve shrugs.

“Get packed,” he says, “I’ve already promised Morgan that she can wear your cape." 

They fight in the airport field about who gets to actually summon the Bifrost – Steve’s argument is that he actually knows where the Stark household is located, and Thor’s is that it’s _his_ goddamn axe. Steve wins eventually, just because he makes the point that he knows where to land so that Mrs. Potts won’t rip them a new one.

The land near a lake so lovely Thor feels himself calm down immediately. New Asgard has become a metropolis, the rural feeling of the small fishing village long gone. This place is in the middle of nowhere, with the small house the Starks occupy on the other side of the lake. It takes them an easy twenty minutes to walk to it from the clearing in which they had landed, during which they both catch each other up on what’s been going on around the world.

“We’re opening up the first interplanetary trading route in a year’s time,” Steve says, sounding like a little kid, “Bucky’s over the moon about that. Sam’s taken to the Cap role so well, he’s a real celebrity now. I don’t think they’ve ever liked me as much as they like him. Fury’s mainly been using me for clean-ups and making sure no one else tries to cause any trouble.”

“That’s great!” Thor replies. Steve smiles this sunbeam of a smile, and Thor’s reminded of just how handsome the other man is.

“How’s New Asgard?” Steve asks him. Thor blinks.

“Oh, you know. It’s a city, and we have to run it. We’ve got Midgardians living there now. The sorcerers from Kamar-Taj are in talks about building another Sanctum there too, since Asgardians are capable of fortifying their defences. Our main source of income has shifted again from tourism to fish, for some reason. I didn’t even realize we were still sending out all our fishing boats.”

Steve laughs, a giddy infectious sound that makes Thor also break out grinning.

“Boy,” he says, “You’ve really gone through it all, huh. Look at you now. You’re an inspiration, you know that.”

Thor looks away. He doesn’t feel like an inspiration, really.

“Don’t know about that,” he manages to say, “There’s plenty of other inspirational people.”

“And there’s also you,” Steve says in that gentle Captain way that shows his true strength, his heart, and Thor has to blink away the tears that start to form at the corners of his eyes as the house comes into view.

 

* * *

 

Morgan is feisty, bubbly, and insanely smart, just like her father. According to Mrs. Potts, who greets him with a kiss on either cheek at the door, she’s been getting tutelage from two people called Harley and Peter, both of which are MENSA-level geniuses and close prodigies of Tony Stark. They’re not at her party, something about having to save the world, but they do send a video message that she and her friends laugh at. 

The party is normal. Her friends all come over around three, and they play a variety of children games. There are streamers and balloons everywhere. At least four boys try to pick up Mjolnir, everyone around them cheering, until Steve evidently feels bad enough to go over and ‘help’, allowing the last boy to pick it up to rancorous applause.

Thor and Steve, between them, can carry quite a bit, so a lot of the afternoon is also spent picking up as many children as physically possible and having races around the lake. Bruce also shows up, to the delight of all the tiny people, and he ends up joining the races as well. Thor looks at him, and he looks truly happy. Good for him. He remembers Bruce when he and the Hulk were enemies, trying to battle for control through desperation. Now they’re one and the same, and it’s a lot like finding peace with yourself. Thor looks at him, and thinks, _one day_.

The children stay until late. Morgan’s cake is a large blue arc reactor, one like her father had sitting in his chest for years. Steve tells him quietly that night, when everyone’s gone to sleep and they’re both sitting on the porch, that she’s had the same cake every single year since the Third Snap. Thor feels his throat close up, because she’s so small, and so young, but so happy and proud of her father. Steve’s also trying not to cry, he can tell, so he puts his arm around the other man and they lean on each other.

The next day, they visit Tony.

“Hi daddy,” Morgan says. Thor watches as she pats the tombstone, a single, granite reminder of Tony Stark. She puts down the flowers they bring him.

“Her birthday was yesterday, Tony,” Mrs. Potts says brightly, and Thor can see the barely there tremble to her hand as she strokes the stone, “Thor, Steve and Bruce all came to make sure they had a really good time this year. She enjoyed it a lot.”

“My cake was you again,” Morgan pipes up, “It was your cool heart, daddy, the one you had before I was born, not the boring flesh one you had after.”

“Morgan!” Pepper says, but she’s smiling, exasperated, and Thor can’t help but smile too.

They talk for a while more. Thor declines the offer to say something to Tony, because he really doesn’t have anything to say past _Thank you_. He’s been saying a lot of _thank yous_ lately.

Steve stays back, though, and Thor respectfully leaves behind Pepper and Morgan, who are talking about what they should get for lunch. He does glance back, though, and sees Steve place something on the grave. He can’t tell what it is, so he leaves it. Some things between those two were for them only, and he respects that.

 

* * *

 

“We returned the stones,” Steve says that night, on the porch again, “But there’s something.”

“What?” Thor says, because if it’s about Mjolnir he’s not going to return it – it’s hard enough with both of them trying to summon two different weapons. The arguments would double if they only had one.

“Not Mjolnir,” Steve says and he sounds serious, “But the energy signatures. I couldn’t return the Soul Stone. When I tried to, something changed in the universe. _Our_ universe. I couldn’t really feel it, then, but every time I hang out around you it gets stronger. I think,” he breathes in, and then looks straight into Thor’s eye, “I think something isn’t quite balanced yet. Something’s out there. And it’s trying to come back."

“It’s been almost five years,” Thor says, “Why now?” 

Steve is silent.

“A week ago,” he says, “The Guardians picked up another straggler. He said he’s been tracking the progress of the universes for a while now, since the First Snap ten years ago. He basically said that things aren’t as it should be, not quite. He said the stones don’t really kill people, just. Takes them away until the time is right.” He looks up at Thor. “We never destroyed the time machine, you know.”

“We shouldn’t meddle anymore,” Thor tells him. Steve nods, quiet.

“I know, but I have this feeling. I know you have it too, this sensation that lingers, as if we’re not whole yet.”

Thor thinks back on his own journey of self-worth. Thinks about feelings like loss, and love, and how to start caring again.

“I think we could improve,” he says carefully. Steve pushes himself up to a standing position, and paces out to look at the full night sky. Thor follows him.

“I think they’re both trying to come back,” Steve finally says, and Thor gets it. He really does. Some things are lost forever, and he doesn’t know if it’s worth it, not after this long, not after he’s finally got his people back again, but he can feel the change. He hadn’t been paying attention, since he’s had to run a whole city and all, but there’s something there, just off kilter, tugging them through life on an imperfect path. And if Steve felt it linger since stepping foot on Vormir, chances are they’ve left it a little long to pursue.

It’s better late than never.

“I think,” he says, and Steve turns to look at him, backlit by the porch lamps and ethereal in the starlight, “I think Asgard should start getting involved in interplanetary dimensional affairs.”

Steve grins at him.

“About time,” he says.

 

* * *

 

 He dropped the weight-loss routine before it even started, but due to his metabolism coming back as a result of resistance training, Thor notices that he’s actually starting to lose the weight regardless. He highlights this to Val, and they start to talk the pros and cons of dropping the bulk versus keeping it up.

“Heavyset,” he reminds her, “Less likely to get beat up by you or Sif.”

Val shakes her head. “More room for flexibility in moves if you don’t depend solely on hitting. You’ve always moved fast, but since we accidentally took the wrestler build direction your style has gravitated towards being a hard hitter rather than the strategy you used to have. Might be the extra weight.”

“True,” Thor concedes mournfully. He was starting to like the large build. When he wore clothes, it didn’t really look much like he had changed except his belly, which had flattened out a little, but he could feel the difference, and it made him feel good. However, Val had a point. Being a hard-hitter may be useful, but it only gets you so far. Thor’s always excelled both in sports and in academics, and he knows the most successful warriors were also strategists. 

So were the most successful kings.

“Let’s not change anything,” he finally says. “If I keep losing the weight at this rate, it’s still going to take a few years to get back to what I was before, so the transition back to being a smart fighter is slower.”

“Alright, you big oaf,” Val says, “We’ll keep up the same regiment. I’m feeling the effects of the last five years too. Well, ten years for me. I started mine when we came to Midgard.”

“We could be Instagram fitness models,” Thor tells her, and she laughs.

“I already am,” she replies.

 

* * *

 

Steve keeps popping over, in between holding conference calls with the Guardians and Fury and whoever else is caught up in this whole _Saving the Universe 2: Electric Boogaloo_ business and taking care of Morgan with Mr. Hogan, Mrs. Potts, and the Peter Harley duo. He’s both a wanderer and not, kind of everywhere at once but also never truly on the grid. Every time he visits he brings a sketch of some place for Thor; a forest in Southeast Asia, the sunset over Mt. Fuji, the skyline of San Francisco.

Thor enjoys his visits very much.

“Do you ever wonder what would happened you were one day unable to lift Mjolnir or Stormbreaker?” Steve asks one day, as they walk around one of the many squares in New Asgard. Thor thinks about New Mexico.

“I don’t have to,” he says. Steve visibly tenses.

“Right,” he stutters, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to – I mean, I forgot that – ” Thor cuts him off.

“It’s okay,” He says, comfort seeping into his voice, “Calm, Steve.”

“Yeah, calm. I’m sorry,” Steve repeats, so Thor just throws an arm around him and steers them towards a really great Chinese restaurant that opened up not too long ago.

“The Soul Stone,” Steve says over an obscenely large bowl of prawn noodles, “I talked to Bruce, and we think we have a theory.”

“Go on,” Thor says, because for all Asgard knows about the infinity stones, the Soul Stone remains a mystery.

“We don’t think the Soul Stone is a stone,” Steve says, “We think it’s physical representation is a soul itself.”

“What,” Thor says.

“Think about it,” Steve gestures, mouth full but still somehow managing to talk and chew at the same time, “A soul for a soul. It’s such a basic test, right? You kill someone, you get the stone. Thing is, we talked to Clint, and he doesn’t actually _remember_ getting the stone. He woke up in a puddle, and it was in his hands. Ergo, theory.” He swallows, and then points his chopsticks smartly at Thor.

“We think that to take on a physical form, the Soul Stone needs to actually absorb a soul. But the sacrifice is only really made once, because after that you could just steal the Soul Stone from whoever makes the sacrifice, right?” Steve says. Thor follows, but he doesn’t quite get it, until Steve says, 

“I think Natasha _is_ the Soul Stone.”

And everything suddenly makes _so much sense_. Thor’s still confused, but it’s a good kind of confused now, the kind that leaves you hopeful for clarity.

“You couldn’t return her, because that would mean the Stone would cease to exist,” he says, “It’s physically impossible to return an object that was made for the purpose of jumping the timelines. But because you now, for all intents and purposes, own the Stone, you can try to revert it back to its true form. Which would be Natasha herself.” 

“Right,” Steve says, and for the first time in a long while, he looks positively joyous.

 

* * *

 

Thor gets it.

Val, him, and their council run Asgard well. The whole royalty shebang got replaced with a systematic government much like other Midgardian countries, and although they’re technically sovereign, New Asgard still stays under the protection of Norway so that they don’t have to open up an international airport. They’ve managed to open up the Bifrost in the field, though, but only a handful of places in the world have allowed international travel by Bifrost so far, and even fewer have designated zones for it.

It going well. So well, that Val’s already been hinting to him that it may be time for her to step down.

“Six years ago, you came back to us,” she says as they sit in the conference room. “Don’t you think it’s time you took over me as the boss? I’m feeling old. I just want to take naps.”

“That is all bullshit and you know it,” Thor says. “Besides, I know you’ve been talking to Steve. He thinks something is going on, and if he’s right – ” He doesn’t want to say it. _If Steve’s right, I’m going to go, leave my people, and save the world again._

Val doesn’t say much, just curls her hands under her head and leans on the table. She doesn’t look happy or sad. Just resigned. 

“I don’t have to go,” Thor suddenly says, feeling panic rise up in his chest. “You know that, right? Even if, _if_  Steve is right, I – I could just stay here, because these are my people, a-and I can’t just _leave,_ that would be so selfish of me to – ”

He doesn’t even realise he’s hyperventilating until Val’s making him count to ten and breathe in time with the beat, slow and steady.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and she shakes her head.

“You have literally nothing to be sorry for unless you were the one who ate my pulled pork sandwich leftovers three weeks ago,” she tells him. Thor manages a weak smile. It feels like a grimace. 

“Listen, even if you get reinstated as sole ruler, the council is still in effect, and I’ll be on it,” Val tells him, “You’re more of just a figurehead for authority than anything. It’s just more of what we’re already doing, and distributing the load from both of us only to maybe a larger office so that you’re _really_ just a figurehead by the end of it all.”

“That just sounds like government dictatorship,” Thor points out. Val shrugs.

“If anyone could be a kind dictator, it would be you. Think about it. I’m going to go buy a litre of soda to chug, it’s my cheat day.” And she leaves Thor to mull over it.

 

* * *

 

“I have a hypothetical,” Thor tells Kristie, and she leans forward eagerly.

“Tell me this hypothetical,” She says, accent light. 

“If, hypothetically, I were to leave my people – not forever, just to finish a quest that is either of really great importance or just importance to me and my friends, would that be selfish? I would come back, and everything. I just feel as if it sounds like I’m running away from them again. Hypothetically.”

“Hmm,” Kristie says, turning to write something down on her notepad, “How long would this hypothetical quest take?”

“Anywhere from a few weeks to years. Hypothetically.” 

“Well, it’s been a few years since New Asgard’s conception,” she says, same soothing voice that washes over Thor in a calm wave of rationality, “So think about what’s been done in those years. What direction do you see the city taking? More importantly, what direction do you, as king, want to take it in?”

“I want it to be the best place for my people,” Thor says immediately. Kristie never asks him straight out how he feels about his own decisions, just coaxes it out of him gently, and sometimes her roundabout questioning is just what he needs to hear.

“Okay, and if you aren’t there, do you have people in place who you trust to make it the best place?”

“Yes,” he says, thinking of Val, who’s literally been doing this since day one anyway.

“Then your city is sorted, even if you leave,” She says with a kind smile. “You said that the quest could either be really important or just important to you. Can you clarify this?”

“Well,” Thor says, “I suppose if we’re right about a ton of things then we’ll save the universe. Again. But if not, then we’re just chasing a fake lead on the off chance we can get our friends back and burning millions in government funding.”

“So it’s a gamble,” Kristie says, “But to be honest, to me it sounds like whether you save the universe or not, the chance you have of saving your friends is worth the pursuit.”

“See, that’s the problem,” Thor says, looking at the ceiling. “It just feels selfish, if it really turns out we’re doing all of this,” he gestures widely to convey the expansiveness of the word _this_ , “Just to bring some people back." 

“To the world it may seem selfish,” Kristie tells him, firmly but kindly, “But you seem like you won’t know how to live with yourself if you didn’t even try. To your friends, that can never be selfish.” She leans back in her chair. “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course,” Thor repeats, and he asks, just for reassurance, “And to my people?”

“To your people, well,” Kristie smiles, “I think that you’ve done more for then than they can ever ask for, and I think they’d say you need to take a break. See some sights. Save the universe and/or your friends. Vacation things like that.” There’s a twinkle in her eye and Thor falls a little bit in love with it.

“I really need to buy you some cupcakes,” he informs her, and Kristie’s laugh is delighted.

 “If you hypothetically need my favourite cupcake flavour, it’s red velvet,” she says. Thor smiles.

“Hypothetically, Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The call comes through right after he finishes a PT session.

“Steve?” He says, but it’s not Steve. It’s Scott Lang, who waves through the screen cheerily.

“Hiya,” Scott says, “I heard you’re on board for the whole Make the Universe Right Again project?”

“Depends on what you think my involvement is,” Thor lies, furrowing his brow. Val rolls her eyes in the corner, because she knows he’s lying.

“Well, the Guardians come back in three weeks. They say that their mystery passenger gets veto power on who we bring along to make things right, but no one else has really signed up besides you and Cap. Not Cap-Cap, sorry, the _other_ Cap. Steve. God, it’s been like six years and I’m still calling him Cap. Jesus.” Thor blinks, somehow grasping all and none of what Scott had just said.

“I’m not going,” Scott continues on, “Only because I’m kind of part of the new Avengers now and my clearance level is less _universe_ and more _San Francisco,_ so I don’t think Fury wants any of us up there just yet. I literally only know about it because Sam-Cap’s a good friend now and we need the quantum realm to fix any shit.”

“Congratulations,” Thor manages to get the word in.

“Thank you,” Scott says, “Look, Steve asked me to confirm with you. It’s going to be you two, Carol Danvers, the Guardians, and their new member. Whatever you guys are doing, even the risks are unknown, because the Guardians have really been keeping their mouth shut about what the new guy’s been telling them, but Steve has a good feeling about it.”

Thor leans back on the bench. “Did the new member give a name, or anything?”

“No,” Scott says, “Just – Nebula and Gamora know who he is, and they trust him, if that’s any consolation.”

“It’s consolation enough,” Thor tells Scott, getting up to look out over the city. The new gym has a stunning view of the soft glow New Asgard casts at dusk, and Thor feels an ache in his chest for the beauty of the place.

“Tell Steve I’ll go,” He hears himself say, “And that he better be ready for some real galaxy hopping this time.”

“Roger that,” Scott says with a salute, and the call cuts. Thor closes his eyes. It’s time for a haircut.

 

* * *

 

“God, you look good,” Val tells him, admiring his new look, “It’s like Sakaar all over again.”

Thor grins. He’d asked Miek to style the cut, and they had had one last night of male bonding by giving him an entire makeover; hair, nails, and facemask included 

“Do you like my French tips?” he shows them off to Val, who oohs with delight, “Korg does them really well.”

“Aw mate, you say the nicest things,” Korg smiles from off to the side. Miek clicks out a goodbye. Thor hefts the duffel onto his shoulders, and holds out his hand. A moment later, Stormbreaker flies to him, and this time, Mjolnir is hot on its heels.

Mjolnir whizzes past him as Stormbreaker lands snugly in his outstretched palm, and he grins. He turns around, and there’s Steve Rogers, heading towards him in a duffel bag of his own and a dark blue and black version of his usual stars n’ stripes suit, waving the hammer like an idiot. Not far behind him is the new Cap, Sam, and his shadow, Bucky. They’re holding hands, which, Thor muses, probably wasn’t a new development.

“See you’ve got your own entourage to see you off,” Steve grins and cocks his head in the direction of Korg, Miek, and Val. Korg waves.

“And I see you’ve got yours,” he replies, holding up a wave for Sam and Bucky, who wave and nod back, respectively. Steve’s eyes go soft and teary.

“Yeah,” he says with a bit of a wet noise, “They’re real good to me. I’m gonna miss them while we’re up there.”

Thor thinks about New Asgard, and what they’ve left behind. What he’s left behind, to grow and change from one of the worst versions of himself into something much, much better.

“I’m going to miss home too,” he says, “But I swear, Steve. Home’s going to be here when we come back.” Not if. When. Because Thor eleven years ago may have given up on the idea of New Asgard, or any sort of place to call home, but now he has it back. His home is his people in the city, Asgardians and Midgardians alike, and they need their king.

“Do you really need Stormbreaker?” Steve asks cheekily, raising a taunting eyebrow. “Thought you could summon the lightning all on your lonesome, after all.” Thor bares his teeth in friendly challenge. 

“I’m bringing it in case we need a quick out for emergencies,” he says, “It has no use here without me or you to wield it, anyway.”

Steve blinks.

 “Uh, you know Val’s been able to hold Stormbreaker since forever, right?”

Thor blinks.

 _“What."_  

“Sorry about that!” Val calls from across the field, “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d start sulking. Like you’re doing now.”

“I’m not sulking,” Thor says, sulking.

“Stormbreaker was forged for a king,” Steve says, and then looks at Thor. “I can think of any two people who are a better fit to wield it.”

“See, that implies that you should be king too, since you too can wield it,” Thor grumbles, but he realises it’s true. Val has every right now to wield a weapon worthy of a king as he does. “I’m still taking it with us. We don’t know what we’ll run into. Sorry, Val.”

“No hard feelings,” Val calls back, “We’re opening up another terminal from Oslo soon anyway.”

There’s a droning sound in the air, a signal that the Guardians have arrived. They watch as the Benatar touches down, and the hatch opens. Thor turns around and Val’s suddenly by his side, pulling him into a quick hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” She says, and he can say the same about her, too, they’ve both come so far, through so much. “Get back alive or I’ll kill you twice. The people can’t wait for you to usurp me.”

“Love you too,” Thor says into her head, and she squeezes him tighter. It’s like being crushed slowly by an entire building. “I promise, the first thing I’ll do upon my return is to stage a coup d'etat.”

He manages to extract himself from her grip, and sees that Steve is trying to do the same over to the side where Sam and Bucky look like they’ve morphed into a giant octopus and wrapped around him several times. They finally disentangle from each other, and if Steve’s wiping away tears when he walks up to the entrance of the Benatar, Thor doesn’t say anything. Just pats his shoulder. Steve sniffles in assent as the hatch closes.

“So we’re back on the Avenger’s bullshit,” he finally says, looking around as they walk further into the ship. He tosses Mjolnir from hand to hand again, a nervous habit that Thor finds endearing now. “Saving the universe, and all that. Using the Infinity stones.”

“Not really,” Thor says, blinking, because things really are just falling into place today, “We’re saving our friends. The universe is a by-product of that.” He turns to Steve. “You said it yourself. That the stones never really killed their wielders. They just take them. And we have a stone, right here. Just waiting to bring them back. Bring them back, and the universe rights itself again.”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Steve says innocently, as they round the corner to hear the voices of the Guardians. Unwittingly, Thor’s ears pick out a new one that carries above the rest, one so achingly familiar that he feels his heart race as he speeds up his steps, “A little bird just told me that one day, all will be well, the universe would be balanced, and the sun will shine on us again.”

And then Thor’s running, he’s running down the galley of the ship and he skids around the corner, chest heaving, looking wildly around at the Guardians until his eyes land on the mystery passenger and his entire world stops.

“Hello, brother,” Loki says.

**Author's Note:**

> potential triggering topics are long discussions of weight, although all done in positive lights, and discussion of anxiety and feelings of inadequacy. there are several sections dedicated to exercise, and it is explicitly stated that the exercise is not for conforming to societal physical norms, but for actual health (burning transfats to keep cholesterol levels maintained, etc). theres fleeting mentions of past alcohol abuse and bad ways to deal with panic attacks, but nothing outside of canon endgame thor and val are in this. 
> 
> i imagine thor's body type by the end to be less chris hemsworth and more [bill goldberg](https://i0.wp.com/celebrityinside.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Bill-Goldberg-Height-Weight-Body-Shape.jpg), who is a pretty damn thick ufc fighter. i also firmly believe in the benefits of exercise, if possible for you to do it, at least for mental health, if not physical.
> 
> also if you've finished reading and you're confused don't worry so am i but the gist is:
> 
> \- they're going to try and do some research throughout the galaxy on the soul stone to solidify their hypothesis  
> \- if all is well, they're going to try get into the soulworld and bring back natasha and tony.  
> \- loki is alive i aint saying how because i haven't thought about it
> 
> please come scream over on twitter with me about endgame and steve/thor @steverogersgay


End file.
